Cream of the Crop
by The Absolute Madman
Summary: In a world dominated by farmers, and predetermined fate. one warrior will break free from the clutches of fate to do what he truly wants.


Chapter1: I could always go back to being a huntsman.

Legends. Stories scattered through time. Mankind has grown quite fond of recounting exploits of heroes and villains. Forgetting so easily that we are remnants, byproduct, of a forgotten pass.

Man, born from dust, was strong, wise, and resourceful. But he was born in an unforgiving world. An inevitable darkness, a mixture of organic remains, clay, rock particles, and organic particles of destruction.

Remnant's outer mantle, seems to set its sight on mankind's destruction, and all of his creation. Thus, The creatures of Grim blinks into existence. Byproducts of the land's hatred towards man. These forces clashed and it seems darkness was intent on returning man's brief existence to the void. However even the smallest of spark of hope is enough to ignite change, and in time, man's passion, resourcefulness and ingenuity led them to the tools that would help even the odds. This power was appropriately named, "Dust". Human power in hand, man lit their way through the darkness and in the shadow's absence, came strength, civilization and most importantly, life.

But even the most brilliant of light eventually may flicker and die, and when they are gone, darkness will return...

So, you may prepare your guardians... build your monuments to a so-called free world but take heed... There will be no victory in strength.

\- But perhaps victory is in the simpler things that you've long forgotten. Things that require a smaller, more honest soul...

Remnant. A place where infertile soil runs amok. And without crops, humanity nears extinction. As if being mocked by god, the creature of grim was born. Creatures hell bent on destroying our existence. Rare the appearance of this ichor like creatures, may be, the damage done upon mankind's, already feeble civilization was no joke. Thus, the hunters were initiated. Band of able men and women organized to defeat the vile creatures.

It was the golden age of warfare back then. Alas, mankind once again is reminded that there is no victory in strength.

In the middle of the grimm crusade, a titanic tree trunk sprouted from the blood soaked ground, and when its height fully emerged from the ground, the once dead like tree sprouted blood colored leaves. All of mankind and grimm ceased the war to marvel. Suddenly all the grimm started to decompose and be absorbed to the tree. Warriors rejoiced. For there will be no more blood spill. They were wrong, Oh so very wrong. From the tree trunk sprouted a black wooden body. A pair of eyes was exposed to the world. Jagged mouth started to form on its face. Thunderous roar heralded its birth to this world. A roar promising decimation to its enemies. As if relishing the brief calm before the storm, they all stood in silence. And then, all hell broke loose.

Gigantic hands rained down from above, its speed shocking all of the hunters in the vicinity. Whirling appendages of death meets fragile human bodies. Paralyzing roars of hatred covers the battlefield. They were being crushed like bugs. They needed a plan of attack, fast. Their weapons were useless. Swords meant to cut even the hardest of metal lay broken. Hammers made to deliver stone crushing blows shatters on first contact against this mighty giant. Piercing arrows were deflected from its hide. Shield created from the hardest of minerals meant to weather the hardest of blows lay broken from just the simple flick of the giants finger. Bodies flew everywhere. Men or women, it killed with extreme prejudice. The giant decided to mock them by using the bodies of their fellow hunters as projectile weapons. It did it while laughing like an insane child. Truly, this was the fight of the ages, if they manage to fell this beast. As it continues to perverse their comrades' corpse by molding it into a bowling ball and throwing it onto them, eliciting an explosion of limbs, organs and other gruesome human cavity. Then someone shouted to hit its eyes. Those who heard this immediately planned a way to traverse the distance between them and the giant's eyes. Some tried to gain momentum and run up to it by using every traversable surface on its body. Others simply ran to higher ground and took aim for its eyes, and let loose rain of gunpowder and metal.

Unfortunately, the group who decided to traverse its body didn't find success. The titan immediately shook them off. Some who were quick enough grabbed its rugged hide for dear life, some of them watched their comrades' hopeless expression as they fell, as if trying to process what happened to them. Then it happened. The giant decided to rid off himself the remaining ants that was on him by setting itself ablaze. Hundreds perished from the blazing hot inferno that was the wooden titan. Those who decided to keep themselves far away witnessed the suffering of their fellow hunters. No one knew how to destroy the giant. No one also knew where the fire originated from. They decided to retreat and report what they saw in the battlefield. News will soon spread all across the land about this wooden titan. Six years after, it seems that the sighting of this monster near the four feeble kingdoms increased. 4 years later, they soon discovered why the sighting became so frequent, it seems that this giant multiplied. 13 years later, after hundreds of battles, ending bitterly for mankind, they found a way to stop and destroy the titan. The solution came from an art of manipulating aura to grow crops. The technique was discovered by Thomas Jebediah and further improved by Gideon Sawyer. In a span of 5 years almost all fighting forces were replaced by farmers. Replaced because all hunters couldn't manipulate aura like they do. Studies were performed to investigate as to why the hunters couldn't do it. In general all hunters' aura could never be manipulated because it was already programmed to defend, while the farmers were a blank canvas. Sadly, it was dubbed to be impossible to reprogram ones aura. It would take determination and an ocean like reserves of aura. A year later, said farmers finally defeated one wooden giant in exchange they received 90% casualties. The government decided to teach them how to be like hunters. Agile, durable and determined. And so, the farming academies were born.

-Apple seed academy-

A certain blonde Huntsman wearing a black hoodie stood infront a castle, a vast display of farming land behind the enourmous building. As dozens upon dozens of teenagers with the same goal as he pass beside him, he couldn't help but think of his goal once again.

'I'm finally going to become a farmer, uncle Pantheon' He couldn't help but think about his uncle who dreamt of becoming a baker and the one who helped him get into a farming school.

'Welp. One small step for man, one giant leap for me, I guess' and with that thought, he proceeded to walk forward, towards his dream...

* * *

 **just a little something I pieced together when I was walking. I wont be able to upload my two fics because of college. Btw, I'm about to take my 2nd quiz on math tomorrow, so to those that will read this fic wish me good luck so I can maybe pass my test. I'm goin to need everything, from prayers and such, to pass this one test, this is optional, though. I wont force you, depends on you, if you want to wish me luck.**


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